Kickoff
by Dixie Dewdrop
Summary: What happens when you are Tony and your leg is broken in a college football game, tragically sidelining you for the season?  This is part of my Fate scenario.
1. Tackle

Tackle

Jethro Gibbs settled back against the arena bleacher seat and scanned the stadium's animated crowd. The excitement of the match reverberated through the spectators, and cheerleaders for both Ohio State and Michigan, who had gotten the momentum going earlier, played to their side's crowds. Both fan groups voiced their conviction that they would experience a football victory that afternoon.

This game promised to provide entertainment for the rest of the year, because this was the match between Ohio State's Buckeyes and the team's chief rivals, the Michigan Wolverines. In other words, this was the game of games.

Gibbs grinned to himself and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. Tony had played hard the previous three quarters, and now in the fourth, the score stood at thirteen to thirteen- an excruciating, nail biting tie.

The crowd screamed wildly- this game meant superiority, and both sides craved that designation.

The umpire blew his whistle decisively and the players re-engaged. Gibbs kept his eye on his son, who jogged backwards across the field, arms outstretched and beckoning as the football sailed down the field and into his grasp.

Unbelievably, that same football flew upwards a split second later as Tony slammed backwards, and it took his dad a few seconds to realize that Tony had been tackled and had lost his grip on the ball. Gibbs slid towards the edge end of his seat, listening to the announcer's voice clarify to the stadium that Tony had been stopped by a Brad Pitt, a junior like Tony, but a Wolverine.

The crowd strained to see and began murmuring as Gibbs took a better look at the field from his spectator vantage point. Tony still lay on his back, where he had landed after the tackle, and it appeared that his coach and several other men had begun running from the sidelines to where he lay.

Gibbs felt his gut churn, and he jumped out of his seat and raced down the concrete stadium steps until he slammed into the barricade blocking the viewers from getting onto the playing turf.

A security guard held out a hand and ordered him to stop, but Gibbs kept going, turning his head to call out, "My boy's out there. Tony's mine!"

The guard nodded his understanding and let him continue, waving towards the security man on the field to let him know to let Gibbs get to his son.

Several people knelt by Tony, and Gibbs slid to a stop and crouched down on the the turf. Tony's eyes were squinched closed but his expression reflected his pain. He had his jaw clenched, and had bitten down on the side of his lip, obviously trying to keep from screaming. He moaned, though, thrashing his head from side to side. He had his left leg bent to his chest and his arms wrapped around it, allowing the attendants to gain an unobstructed view of all of the injured right leg.

"Here I am, Son," Gibbs spoke softly, and reached over and rubbed Tony's cheek under his helmet.

Tony responded immediately at his father's touch, and when he opened his eyes it confirmed to Jethro that his son was in incredible pain.

Licking his lips, Tony spoke haltingly, grimacing in agony. "Daddy, it hurts a whole bunch." He reached up a hand and grasped the hem of his father's shirt.

Gibbs nodded, "I know, Son, but hang on because the doctor's checking you right now."

Tony bit his lip harder and repeated, "It hurts all the way up and down my leg, it hurts, hurts, Dad! Did I get it broken?"

The coach leaned over and put his hand on Jethro's shoulder. "Agent Gibbs, they're going to transport Tony to the hospital. Do you want to ride with him, or will you follow in your personal vehicle?"

The response was immediate, "I'm going with my child." Gibbs jerked his chin up and nodded seriously at the coach, then leaned down and patted Tony's arm to reassure him.

The coach smiled, "Ok, let me get our trainer, Michael Soloman, to drive your vehicle to the trauma center, then. That way you won't find yourself without transportation at the hospital when you decide to leave."

Gibbs glanced around the field. The two teams stood quietly at each side of the playing field observing the action in the middle. The spectators waited silently, watching to see whether Tony would get back up and finish the game. Several of Tony's friends, both male and female, thronged silently around the manicured edge of the playing area, waiting to hear an update. Finally, the announcer spoke over the loudspeaker to the stadium, assuring the crowd that Tony would be okay, but it looked as though his leg had been badly fractured. He would be transported to the hospital for immediate treatment.

As a testament to the esteem in which Tony ranked as an athlete, the fans on the Ohio side stood en mass as a tribute to him. Within seconds, the Michigan fans followed to honor their opponent, a superb athlete, as well. He had played hard, and given Michigan a run for its money.

Jethro pinched the bridge of his nose to control the flood of emotion that assailed him at the outpouring of affection for his son.

As Tony was loaded onto the stretcher and placed into the ambulance, Jethro turned over his keys to Michael and gave him directions to where the car was parked. Then he quickly climbed into the ambulance for the ride to the emergency room.

Tony moaned loudly and thrashed against the stretcher, and Gibbs could just look at him and see immediately that his right leg was badly broken. He couldn't easily tell about the rest of the damage, though. The ambulance attendant gently unsnapped Tony's helmet and pulled It off, gently lowering the young man's head to the pillow. Tony moved his head from side to side, thrashing against the pillow, consumed with pain.

Gibbs positioned himself so that he could physically lean over him and get him to try to focus elsewhere. "Tony, look up at me," he spoke softly.

Tony responded by shaking his head, and Gibbs repeated more firmly, reaching down to run his hand through Tony's bangs. "Anthony, look at me right now, right this minute."

Tony did then, and turned his attention onto his dad, breathing in shallow spurts and biting on his lip.

Gibbs desperately wished Ducky were there to reassure him. Even after years of his role as Tony's dad, the dad of a daredevil, at that, he still felt a surge of panic each time he realized his child had gotten hurt. It scared him to see his boy in so much pain with no way to ease it.

He gently started brushing back Tony's hair. "Look at me, Son, and listen to me, ok? Don't think about anything except me."

Tony listened, then quickly grimaced and groaned loudly as the team doctor pressed around his knee, but then focused on his father as instructed. Gibbs began talking to him as he rubbed his hair, and face, and arm. He had learned years before that when he could get his son to focus on him, it always resulted in calming the child.

Once they got to the hospital's emergency room, activity intensified, and Jethro didn't leave Tony for a second, wanting to make sure that Tony knew he had his father there with him.

The coach and team manager joined them within minutes, but then made their way to the medical facility's waiting room to settle until the doctor shared the news and treatment.

In the examination room the orderlies began cutting off Tony's uniform pants, working quickly to move him to x ray. The attending doctor made a cursory exam before telling Jethro to go, assuring Gibbs that he thought the leg was the only major damage, but that deep bruising, also, would develop. Not willing to let his dad out of his sight, Tony commenced arguing loudly about leaving for the radiology department, refusing to accept the doctor's reassurances that he would just leave his father's presence a very few minutes.

Gibbs felt his stomach lurch. Nevertheless, Jethro steeled himself to toughen his response. It was agonizing watching his child writing in pain in front of him, and the parent side wanted to soothe, to apply kisses and make it all better- immediately. The practical side of him understood, however, that the x rays would confirm the damage, and that Tony was making things worse with his reaction.

He cleared his throat, and ordered firmly, "Tony, don't let me hear you arguing with the doctor again. Go right now to x ray, like you've been told. They need to see how bad the break is, and where the bone fractured. I will not leave here, Son, and will be right in the same spot when you get back. Ok?"

Tony shook his head no, and Gibbs spoke sharply, "I will not repeat myself, Son. I just told you to do something, and I expect you to obey."

Tony caught that tone of voice and acquiesced, but looked at his father with a hurt expression and his lip puffed out into a pout.

Jethro felt as if he'd been sucker punched. He leaned over quickly and whispered, "Daddy's right here, Tony," then kissed the top of his head. "You know I can't go into radiology with you, Son. You'll get through within a few minutes, and I'll be right here waiting for you when you return, ok?"

Tony looked relieved, and he shook his head affirmatively, but didn't verbally reply. The pain exhausted him.


	2. Block

Block

The orderly took advantage of his quiet and quickly wheeled him out into the corridor.

Jethro leaned back against the cubicle wall and prayed silently, then straightened his shoulders and mentally listed what he needed to do in the next hours.

The emergency room doctor approached him, "Sir, he will be gone about a half hour. Why don't you step out and visit with the rest of the people who accompanied you? I have no doubt they would appreciate an update."

Gibbs took the advice, did as instructed, and headed to the waiting room.

They stood up to greet him when he entered. Michael, the trainer, returned his car keys, then headed to the cafeteria to get coffee for both Gibbs and Tony's coach.

Jethro paced the area in front of the waiting room seats and listened as the coach bragged on Tony's talent and ability. He had met the coach before, more than once, and genuinely liked the man. More importantly, though, Tony liked and respected his coach, and that mattered the most to Jethro.

The coach was speaking about the end of the semester, and suddenly Gibbs began paying better attention to his observations.

"What did you say about the finals?" he questioned, finally stopping his pacing to sit down across from the man.

"I said that it is lucky Tony had already finished his finals and that there are only a few days of class left." The coach was a big man, stocky and barrel chested, and he moved vainly to fit better into the hard plastic seat.

"Right, I know he finished finals, that he took them early," the father agreed. After a pause he added, "He thought he did well."

As a matter of fact, Tony had assured Jethro that his final semester grade report would make his dad and abuela happy.

"My point is that I will get him excused by his professors for the last week of classes. They already let him take his finals early since the team is playing out of state next week, which is the real week of finals. So he can just go on home a week earlier than planned. His apartment is as good a place as any to recuperate."

"No," Gibbs contradicted, "he's not going back to his apartment here. He'll go back to Washington instead. We'll be heading to Mexico, to his grandmother's, in a couple of weeks to spend Christmas."

"That's even better," the coach acknowledged. "He will have somebody looking after him."

Gibbs sat quietly thinking for the next couple of minutes, deciding upon the best course of action.

His son would stage a meltdown, more than likely.

Tony loved his apartment, and enjoyed his hold on independence even more. It had come at a hefty price to the young man, which made him appreciate it more than many of his college peers. His freshman year at Ohio State had been a fiasco, terminated at the end of his first semester the instant his dad saw the grades he had earned.

Despite Tony's impassioned begging and throwing himself on his father's mercy, Gibbs had yanked Tony out of Ohio and made him return home to attend the local community college. There he remained until Tony pulled up all of his grades and showed his father he was capable of conducting himself with maturity out of his dad's sight. Only then did Gibbs allow him to return to his beloved Ohio State.

After that rocky start to college priorities, Gibbs had further refused to allow Tony to move from the dorm into his own apartment until Tony had proved he could return to Ohio State and take care of academics first.

Thankfully, he made the right call. Since his child chomped at the bit to have his own place, Tony hit the ground running, producing excellent grades that next year to appease his father. Only then did Jethro allow him his own place.

Tony reveled in the apartment, the independence, and acting as an adult.

Telling him he had to come home earlier than planned would really upset Tony, but his father accepted the inevitable.

Gibbs turned to the coach and to the trainer who had kindly brought coffee to the other two. "Tony's not going to be a happy camper about having to leave for home a couple of weeks early. I don't want him to go back to his apartment, but instead want him to go straight to the airport. I haven't bought him a ticket home, but can arrange that here or at the terminal, either one. I do need to get to his place, though, and check that it's okay and lock it up for the break." He took a long swallow of hot coffee and tried to sort out the details.

The trainer spoke then. "I can settle that problem for you Agent Gibbs. Let me get him to the airport and on the plane. I can take him as soon as he gets dismissed here. Will there be someone to meet him on arrival in D.C.?"

"Absolutely, I will have someone there," Gibbs answered, grateful to the man, and added, "I should just be a couple of hours behind him."

"We'll make it work," the coach smiled. "Tony has brought more than talent to the team, and he helps out others any time he can. You've got a good boy there, Agent Gibbs."

"I agree," Jethro nodded his thanks.

The trainer turned to face Gibbs, "You must be so proud of him."

Gibbs grinned, "That I am, that I am."

Tony's return from x ray halted further conversation, and Gibbs quickly rejoined his child.

Reunited with his dad, Tony puffed his bottom lip into a pout. "They ruined my jersey, too, Dad, just like my pants."

Gibbs couldn't help but laugh. Since babyhood Tony had displayed a fashion flare and concern with clothing that never ceased to surprise him.

Things happened quickly after that, and Gibbs watched as Tony's leg was encased, one section at a time, in plaster of paris. Having his leg moved and jostled proved agonizing and Jethro slipped into the role of comforter, of the one to make everything all better, with which he had much practice. He stroked Tony's hair and talked softly to him, getting Tony to turn his attention to him, rather than to the doctor and the doctor's actions.

Finally, the physician straightened and addressed Gibbs. "I'm going to give you a prescription for a good painkiller for the next few days. He's going to need it. Also, I'm going to give him an injection now which should last several hours. He'll be good to go soon, but will most definitely be on the woozy side."

Jethro nodded in relief, glad that Tony could get a respite from the pain.

Tony spoke up, "It's better now, already, just getting it immobilized. That has helped tremendously. Thanks, Doctor."

Gibbs nodded in agreement.

Tony pulled on his upper arm, "Daddy, will you stay with me tonight at the apartment, and just go back to DC tomorrow?"

The nurse interrupted with the injection, and Gibbs waited until she finished the shot before he spoke. "You're not going to the apartment tonight, Son, you're going straight back to Wash…."

Tony interrupted with horror, "No! No! I can't go home now. Everyone's coming to my place to hang out the next few days as we finish up the semester. I can't go home this week, Dad."

Gibbs stiffened, and answered firmly as he helped Tony to rise into a sitting position. "It's not open for debate, Son. You are not going to be able to get around and take care of yourself at your apartment. Consequently, you're leaving for home this afternoon. There is nothing to discuss. It's a done deal."

Tony threw back his head, "Dad, no! No! No! This is not fair! I can take care of myself! Please listen a second, because I know what you're thinking, and…"

Gibbs held up his hand and narrowed his gaze. "Anthony, the subject's finished for good. Close your mouth right now, or I am going to make you extremely unhappy."

Tony again puffed his lip out into a pout, a habit he'd adopted in toddlerhood when things weren't going his way, then decided to give it one more shot, not ready to concede, "Listen, please Daddy, but…"

Gibbs put his hand under Tony's chin and promised softly, "Tony, I have issued my last warning over this."

His son scowled, but wisely kept the rest of his response to himself. He had a lifetime of experience with Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and knew that his father didn't make idle threats. Before he could process the details of what the trip home meant, though, the orderly interrupted with the wheelchair.


	3. Fumble

Fumble

Two hours later Gibbs slammed the door closed on Tony's place, grabbed the bag he'd packed, and slung it into the rental car Mike Soloman had so graciously overseen. The wise father had not bothered to pack any clothing, since Tony kept the closets in Washington and Campeche full of his apparel. Instead, he'd grabbed the personal things that he thought Tony would want. As he packed he had handled several interruptions from concerned neighbors as well as several young ladies, all wanting to check on Tony's condition and to send their good wishes.

Gibbs sighed as he cranked the car, remembering that Tony was upset with him for forcing him to go home early. Honestly, he understood. The apartment and independence meant so much to his boy, and he willingly met the requirements imposed to keep them, like have Jethro check his grades.

Gibbs rubbed his head roughly. The boy deserved some reward, had earned the right to have a fun week before he returned to D. C.

Still, he thought he'd made the right decision.

A couple of hours later he was sitting on a plane himself, and another couple of hours after that, was walking through his own front door.

Ducky was working his way down the stairs as Jethro entered the foyer. Gibbs greeted him gratefully, thanking him for meeting Tony's flight and transporting him to the house. Ducky assured him that Tony was out for the count, obviously under the influence of the powerful painkiller the emergency room doctor had ordered.

Gibbs studied Ducky quizzically. "Why didn't you just put him on the couch, Duck, instead of take him upstairs?"

The good doctor shook his head ruefully. "The lad refused outright. He said as long as he was home he wanted to be in his own bed. If you can't beat them, then join them, so I assisted young Anthony to his room. Really, the lad has suffered so much today that at least I could let him have his way on the room selection."

"Good thinking, Duck," Gibbs grinned and jogged up the stairs as Ducky made his way to the kitchen.

Tony had managed to sprawl across the bed, longways, and Gibbs shook his head in resignation. Tony had done that very thing since babyhood. Working gently, he managed to get Tony repositioned correctly in the bed, and then he leaned down and kissed him softly on the cheek. Tony slept through all of the activity, and Gibbs quietly made his way out of the room, leaving the door open so that he could hear if Tony called him.

Downstairs at the worn kitchen table, Ducky sipped fragrant hot tea and Jethro, steaming coffee. Gibbs thanked his friend again for not only meeting Tony at the airport with very little notice, but for bringing him home and getting him comfortable, as well.

He gave the doctor a rundown of the football game and accident, and Ducky nodded sympathetically. Finally, he stood and stretched, then regarded his friend.

"I will be back tomorrow to check young Anthony. By then he should be more awake and able to relate his physical progress. You did fill the pain prescription, didn't you, Jethro?"

"Yes, of course, it's over there on the counter," Gibbs pointed across the kitchen.

"Good, I know you are aware of what to do, so I won't lecture you. This is not your first venture into a mishap or illness with the lad. However, I do want to point out that you need rest as much as Tony does. Go to bed, Jethro. You need rest."

With that, the good doctor left and Gibbs turned his attention to cleaning up in the kitchen and heading upstairs to bed. He was too tired to even work on the boat. It had been an emotionally and physically exhausting day.

Climbing the stairs wearily he made his way to Tony's room. Despite the cast, Tony had managed to gravitate towards the bottom of his bed again, and Gibbs shook his head and gently pulled him back towards the pillow.

He scanned the darkened bedroom and couldn't help smiling at the rocking chair, which took up quite a bit of space. Despite Tony's protests to the contrary, the little boy in him remained in evidence. That rocking chair was the one he had been rocked in day after day, year after year, mostly by his abuela. Gibbs, though, had also given it plenty of use rocking or calming his little boy during his childhood. Now, Tony refused to have the rocker removed from his room, even though his father pointed out that he could replace it with another piece of furniture. Tony refused the suggestion and clung to it so adamantly, though, that Gibbs finally quit suggesting it be stored.

Satisfied finally that all appeared well, he left the door open and made his way to a muscle easing shower and welcome bed, and then fell into the blankets with relief.

Tony's insistent calls of "Dad! Daddy!" woke him with a start, and Gibbs turned over in the bed, confused. He had slept far later than he normally did. Morning had dawned. Sunlight had already begun to stream through the blinds, and he sat up quickly, rubbed his face hurriedly, and crossed the hall to his Son.

Tony had maneuvered himself so that he reclined propped against the pillows, and he smiled in relief when he saw his father appear in the doorway. "Hey, Dad-"

Gibbs made his way to the bed, and automatically rested his hand on Tony's forehead as he kissed the top of his head. "Ok, Son, are you all right? What's wrong?"

Tony looked embarrassed and defended himself. "No, yes- uhm, Daddy, I had a really bad dream- a really bad nightmare, and then I woke up just now."

The father nodded in understanding, pushed Tony over a bit. and crawled into the bed with him. Propping himself against the headboard, he pulled his child to him, and wrapped an arm around him as Tony rested his face against his chest.

Gibbs didn't speak for a couple of minutes, but just softly rubbed Tony's hair, and face, and back. Finally he leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "The doctor gave you a really strong sedative. The bad dream probably came as a side effect of that."

Tony nodded against him, reassured and protected with his daddy there. He toyed with the sleeve of Jethro's shirt.

Gibbs waited another couple of minutes until he felt the tenseness leave Tony's body and the boy relax. Then he spoke softly. "Ok, I am going to get up and get those crutches over there and help you to your bathroom. Once I'm sure you can handle that, I'm going to get dressed myself."

Tony nodded agreeably. Gibbs helped him out of bed, and as promised, left him at the bathroom door to return to his own bedroom. He was shaving when Tony called for him next, and he directed Tony to come to his room. He did, with clothes clutched in his left hand. Settling himself on the edge of the bed, he propped the crutches against the mattress.

He called to Jethro in the bathroom, "You have to help dress me, Dad."

"I will, but hold on one second and let me finish." Gibbs rinsed off his face and dried his freshly shaved skin with a towel, then brushed his teeth. He grabbed his own clothes when he returned to the bedroom and began dressing methodically, visually checking on Tony to see how he was doing.

Tony had found some sweat shorts, and Gibbs helped him get those pulled over his cast. He had on a sweatshirt as well, and Gibbs pointed out that he needed socks on, at least. The temperature in late November tended to get chilly.

Tony's cooperation surprised him, and the fact that the boy didn't put up too much of an argument over the rest of the clothing.

Instinctively Jethro prepared himself for a battle later. Tony would not accept the temporary loss of his freedom without more of an argument. He loved action and activity, and would not accept giving up his apartment life without complaining.


	4. Scrimmage

Scrimmage

They made it downstairs without incident, and then Gibbs settled Tony in the living room, with the remote and television, plus several books and a couple of blanket throws. Thankfully, it was Saturday, and Gibbs wasn't on the NCIS team callout for the weekend. Once certain that Tony had everything he needed, he departed to the grocery.

When he returned Ducky was just making a departure, having come to check on Tony. He assured Jethro that all was well and made arrangements to return on Sunday.

Tony hailed his father when he heard him enter, then used the crutches to maneuver his way to the kitchen to join him. Gibbs had set the bags of groceries on the counter and emptied them and stocked the refrigerator and pantry shelves as he grinned his son's way. "You're pretty good with those crutches.

Tony grabbed an apple and leaned against the counter.

"Dad, Ducky said I'm looking good," he squinted as he pulled off the stem and took a huge bite, watching for his father's reaction.

"He told me that, yes. He also said that before the pain gets too bad is when you need to take the painkiller. Just let me know, ok Son? I had the prescription filled on my way back last night."

Tony nodded that he would and continued. "Dad, I had plans to have people over this week as we finished classes, and everyone was coming to my apartment to party. After classes, I mean, no one had plans to come until we finished classes and schoolwork was done. We wanted to just hang out and celebrate the end of the semester."

Gibbs picked up two packs of chicken and slid them onto a freezer shelf, but didn't respond to the information.

Tony raised his voice a bit, eager to get Jethro to pay attention to his proposition. "Dad, listen, please. I would be okay to take care of myself at my place. I admit that I absolutely needed help yesterday, but that was yesterday and not now. I'm not a baby anymore, you know. It wouldn't take anything to let me fly back to Ohio and spend the last week of the semester at my place. Ok, Dad? Are you paying attention?"

Gibbs still didn't answer, but glanced up from the refrigerator shelf he was rearranging to allow another product's inclusion.

Tony scowled at the lack of a positive reaction and puffed out his lip in annoyance. "This destroys my whole entire social life because you overreact and insist on keeping me close anytime I get sick or hurt. I would be all right, back in Ohio. I'm not a little boy anymore, Dad. You can't just keep treating me like a baby!"

Gibbs slowly counted to ten before he shut the door to the refrigerator and responded. "My answer is no, Anthony. You could not have taken care of yourself in Ohio with a broken leg. You aren't even able to drive to the grocery store…."

His son interrupted impatiently, his tone reflecting his annoyance. "Maybe somebody else could have helped, like Lisa, or Caroline, Dad."

Gibbs held up his hand as a signal for Tony to get quiet. Tony scowled harder and puffed out his lip more while his dad poured himself a cup of coffee before answering.

"My answer is no, you are not going to stay in Ohio, alone, with a broken leg. That would never exist as a possibility. You were already scheduled to be home in two weeks, so it really is not that big a deal. As for being a little boy, though, that is debatable, because you certainly are not acting maturely right now."

"Dad, this is unfair! You are messing with my fun, and I had plans with my friends. We won't get to do any of the things we thought we could!"

Tony had managed to work himself into more upset, and Jethro reacted immediately and spoke warningly, "Anthony, if you don't stop yourself before this meltdown continues I am going to make sure that you regret it. Am I clear?"

That wasn't the answer Tony wanted from the man. He didn't plan to give in without a fight. "No, Dad, and…."

Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose and cut off the rest of the response, "Last time, Son-" he promised.

Tony, however, did not want to concede, and he raised his voice to belabor the point. "You are just being mean and unfair, Dad, and…"

"Ok," Gibbs interrupted, holding up his hand and quashing further arguments, "You have just given up your phone and the television for the next week. That means no calling anyone, and no anyone calling you. It also translates to no movies, no shows, no video entertainment at all. One week- that is what I said. Do you understand me?" He regarded Tony with raised eyebrows, expecting a response.

Hearing the unwelcome words, Tony realized he'd pushed his father too far. He scrambled to reverse the decision and tried to hastily make amends. "Ok, never mind, I got you, Dad. I'm not arguing anymore. See? I stopped! Just please don't give me any restrictions, though, ok?" He offered his father a lopsided grin, designed to charm the man into reversing his decision.

Gibbs refused to budge from the mandate. "One week, Son, and if I hear that tone of voice again from your mouth, young man, it's going to be one week plus a sore bottom."

Tony looked horrified at that promise. "But my leg is broken, Dad, so you can't spank…"

Gibbs set his coffee cup down with a bang. "Oh yes I can spank, and I will spank if you use that tone of voice again. Actually, I might just end up blistering your bottom this very morning if this attitude you've developed doesn't disappear soon. My patience has dwindled now. This is the absolute last time I am addressing the fact that you wanted to have fun in your apartment the next two weeks. I understand that you feel cheated, but I still maintain that my answer is no. Now, since you insist you are so capable of independence, go to the living room, grab the remote and your phone, and bring them here to me. Now-"

Tony realized he had lost, and there was nothing to do except obey. Refusing to do as his father said would earn another unpleasant consequence. Following instructions he located the possessions, returned to the kitchen, and cringed as he put both items in his father's hand. He watched sadly as Gibbs powered off the phone, then pocketed both.

Tony knew he'd just hurt himself, but he still wanted to sulk. His day had gone from bad to substantially worse. The next week would be rough, with no communication and no video entertainment to break up the monotony or relieve the misery of slow mobility.

Jethro watched his child's internal struggle. Sighing, he walked over to him and pulled Tony close. Tony rested his head on his dad's chest, one hand playing with a button on his father's shirt, and Gibbs kissed the top of his head and spoke softly, "I realize that you are upset without me about losing the tv and phone, but I warned you before I punished you, Son. My first priority will always remain keeping you safe. If that means at my side, or with Abuela or your grandfather, for that matter, then so be it. At no time, and with no circumstance or stretch of the imagination, would I ever consider having you hours away with a broken leg."

Tony, resigned to his dad's decision, nodded against him. Jethro smelled like coffee and sawdust, familiar and soothing. Gibbs tousled his hair and tilted his chin up so that Tony was looking at him, and ignored the still present pout.

He continued, making his voice light, "Ok, if you stay in here you are helping me."

Tony shook his head, quashing that idea. "I'll go read, Dad."

Gibbs watched him leave and sighed. He could still discern the two year old Tony had once been just in the way his son left the room.


	5. Touchdown

Touchdown

The house phone rang an hour later, startling both of them. Tony had fallen asleep clutching his book, and Gibbs had journeyed to the basement to work on his latest project.

Jethro grabbed the receiver quickly and began working his way upstairs for a fresh cup of coffee. As he got back into the kitchen, he heard Tony calling for him and changed his direction.

Tony had evidently continued to brood, despite the nap, because he had a scowl firmly in place when Gibbs entered the living room, speaking into the phone at the same time he contemplated his boy.

"Hold on just a second, because there is someone awake now who needs to speak to you and update you," Jethro handed the phone to his son, who accepted it with an annoyed scowl.

His face lit up, however, when he recognized the caller's voice. "Abuela! Abuela mia, I love you and miss you, te amo y te extrano. Your Antonio- your own baby Bambino will be in Mexico very soon."

He pushed himself up against the sofa cushions, and the book he had been reading slid to the floor with a bang. Gibbs watched for a second, and then headed to the kitchen as he listened to the resonance of Tony's voice. Maria evidently wanted a full account of how her baby had been sidelined. The young man adored his abuela, and she reciprocated in kind. Their bond remained strong and unbreakable, even though Maria had settled permanently in Mexico when Tony began high school.

Gibbs checked the time and realized lunch needed to appear. He quickly heated up soup and crafted sandwiches, then returned to the living room and motioned for the phone.

Tony scowled anew and spoke conspiratorially into the receiver, "Dad's making me get off the phone, Abuela, but I will see you very soon. Te amo. I love you, too."

He held the phone out to his father and slowly started getting to his feet. "She wants to speak to you, Dad."

Gibbs took the phone in one hand and helped Tony to an upright position with the other. "Go wash up and head to the kitchen. Lunch is on the table."

Jethro watched him grab the crutches and obey, then turned his attention to Maria. She wanted clarification and details on Tony's broken leg, and the assurance that her baby would recover and that he was well tended. He provided it, and she instructed him to reassure her bambino she would call again the next day.

After lunch Ducky came to check the patient, which, along with the trips to the kitchen and bathroom, jostled Tony enough that Ducky made him take a dose of the painkiller. The older man smiled down at the athlete sitting on the sofa across from him. "Lie down now, and rest. The medicine will make you pretty sleepy, so just cut on the telly and zone out until it does, dear boy."

Tony traced a pattern on the pillow he'd pulled into his lap and puffed out his lip to mutter, "Dad won't let me watch any tv at all, Ducky." He glanced sideways at the older man to see if he had garnered his sympathy with that pronouncement.

Ducky looked surprised, "Oh my, then…" He couldn't think of an appropriate answer and addressed Jethro, coming through the doorway with a cup of tea for Ducky and a glass of juice for Tony. "Really, Jethro, did you forbid television for the lad? His convalescence will prove awkward and more tiresome than necessary, I fear."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes at Tony and then responded, "I did forbid the television, as a punishment, though, and took his phone, as well. It certainly has already impacted his convalescence, but Tony decided on that outcome. I can assure you that he earned it. What he has been racing towards getting since losing the phone and tv is a spanking, however, which I am almost at the point of delivering."

Scowling, Tony accepted the juice glass and drank several swallows. He regarded Ducky carefully and attempted to enlist him as an ally. "Ducky, tell my dad please that not only have I outgrown spankings, but in my present condition any physical reprimand appears as a no option, as a don't- even- consider- it option."

The doctor smiled at him sympathetically. "Anthony, having known your father for years, I can assure you that your best interests are always foremost in his actions."

Jethro leaned down and took the juice from Tony and then directed softly, "Scoot down so that you can take a nap. That medicine should kick in soon."

Once Tony settled Gibbs covered him with a throw, kissed the top of his head, then tousled his hair. "Call me if you need me."

Tony reached up with both hands and grasped the back of Jethro's head, then pulled him down for a hug.

Ducky rose from his chair slowly and stretched. "It is time for me to leave and head to the golf course. I'm playing several rounds against a rival medical examiner and plan to win this afternoon." He chuckled and wagged a finger at Tony. "Don't get into any more trouble, Anthony. Mother wants to spend the day with you Monday or Tuesday and I don't relish having to disappoint her with the news that your father has added house confinement to the punishment you already have."

Tony nodded, his eyes already beginning to get heavy. Then grinning, he responded, "I love spending time with Mrs. Mallard. Tell her she can take me either day."

Jethro walked his friend to the door and bid him good bye. When he returned to the living room Tony had already fallen asleep.

Jethro watched him with affection for a couple of minutes before leaving the room.

The rest of the weekend passed without incident, but by late Sunday night Gibbs could feel that exhaustion actually radiated through his bones, as well as the rest of him.

Some of his nursing responsibility would soon ease. His father, Jack, should arrive by mid morning Monday, so Gibbs felt that he could leave Tony with his grandfather while he headed to work the next day.

He made his way slowly up from the basement, cut out the lights, and then worked his way through the kitchen and the living room, and finally, upstairs. He stopped at his boy's bedroom to check on Tony, reassuring himself that he'd put enough covers on him, then showered quickly and slid between the sheets. He picked up the book he was reading and sighed in resignation. It didn't seem likely that he could keep his eyes open long enough to read an entire page, so he cut the light off instead.

A noise interrupted him as he settled into a comfortable position, and he glanced at the doorway to see Tony making his way into the room. Gibbs sat up and settled back against the headboard before he murmured ruefully. "I thought I put you to bed, Son."

Tony grinned and sat down awkwardly on the other side, then started scooting backwards towards his father. "You did, Dad."

Gibbs stayed quiet until Tony worked his way over to his father's side, then rearranged himself so that his head rested in Jethro's lap. He reached up to pull the covers up over himself.

Jethro couldn't resist a smile. Despite Tony's protests that he had matured, his father recalled that he'd just dealt with the aftermath of the matured one's nightmare hours before, and now, the mature one snuggled securely in his father's grasp.

Gibbs reached down and rubbed Tony's hair and face, then stopped and worked the covers from underneath Tony to spread them evenly over his son.

"Did you have another nightmare?"

Tony shook his head. "Daddy, I wanted to say that I apologize for talking back and behaving so disrespectfully. You knew I couldn't stay in Ohio like this, and I agree now. I guess why I acted that way has to do with the fact that I really am angry at myself. I shouldn't have gotten hit like that, and if I had been more careful, I could have finished out the season and spent the last week of the semester in Columbus."

He paused and seemed to weigh his next words. "Anyway, Dad, I took my frustration out on you." He chose his words carefully. "You know something funny?"

Gibbs picked up Tony's hand and started rubbing his fingers, "No, no I don't."

Tony reached up with his free hand and rubbed his father's cheek. "The coach said he didn't think you were there yet when we started running onto the field, and I told him that you were there, that I could feel it, and that you would want to witness kickoff. Then when I got tackled and hit the ground, for a second the pain was so intense that I couldn't breathe, but I thought that my daddy had come to kickoff and so my daddy would come make it better for me. You always do, Dad, you always somehow seem to know when I'll have a kickoff where I'll need you."

Tony shifted a bit, and made himself more comfortable. His eyes began to close.

Gibbs didn't respond to his son's observation, but softly rubbed Tony's hair and cheeks and back until his boy fell asleep.


End file.
